“What? Teaching these guys how to act like a gentleman?” But he zipped it back up at the stubborn glint in her eye. Time to change the subject before he pushed her any farther into a corner. He’d gotten two smiles out of her and broken the iceberg that had risen between them last night. That’d have to be enough for now. “So, what do you think?” He gestured to the easels.
This time she launched right into her opinions, saving them from any more painful banter. “Katie’s painting is detailed, like you said, which I feel lends to her personality. She likes things neat, together and orderly. But it’s also bright and happy—how she feels right now. She’s in a good place.”
He nodded, absorbing the picture. Maybe too good a place. Was anyone that happy at a camp for troubled teens? It wasn’t like they were here for s’mores and Monopoly. He still felt as if something was missing from Katie’s file, but he couldn’t read information that wasn’t there. Maybe he was just paranoid.
“What about Stacy’s?” The abstract swirls of blues, greens and purples sort of lent to a teenaged version of van Gogh’s Starry Night—Max’s favorite painting for its cryptic beauty. He hoped Emma picked up a good impression from it, too. He worried about Stacy. Of all his students, she’d been the most blocked in their One4One talks.
“To me, it looks like twilight. And I think those splotches at the top are supposed to represent stars.” She tilted her head to get a better view. “But the important part to realize about hers is the color choice. The blue color family represents peace, relaxation and tranquility. That hints at how she’s not nearly as hardened inside as she appears on the outside. There’s a wall up, for sure—but the foundation of it doesn’t go deep.” She hesitated. “Maybe one of us will reach her.”
“If anyone can, it’s you.”
Emma winced at the compliment, as if she didn’t fully believe it, but he didn’t care. He’d keep sprinkling the truth on her until her confidence grew. He’d seen her with the girls and knew what she had already accomplished with them. She might not see it, but he did. So did God. Nothing was being wasted, however small it might seem on the surface.
Hopefully that same principle would remain true as he pursued her.
He wanted to ask about Cody’s painting next but didn’t dare. Then Emma’s gaze lingered on it, and he knew from her quick intake of breath the diagnosis wasn’t as favorable as the others. The painting in front of the boy contained a careful red circle that took up nearly the entire canvas. A thick black slant slashed across the center of the circle diagonally, the universal symbol for no.
Max frowned. No...no what?
One glance at Emma’s crestfallen expression determined she wasn’t sure, either. No to Camp Hope? No to authority? No to rules? Or was it a more positive portrayal, as in, no more fighting? No more crimes? No more misbehaving?
He couldn’t be sure. But he didn’t need a course in symbolism to conclude that the dripping red and black paint spoke of intense feelings, likely anger. Maybe even hatred. Cody was dealing with something hard-core, and until their next One4One chat, he wouldn’t get a chance to find out. He couldn’t exactly march over and demand an explanation. The last thing they needed was to judge the kids based on their project. This was supposed to be a safe exercise, a chance for them to express themselves, though he did caution them ahead of time about keeping the paintings PG—no nudity or curse words, or they’d lose recreation time for a week.
“What about Tonya’s?” He couldn’t see the girl’s entire canvas from here, but it had to be more encouraging than Cody’s—and right now, the best gift he could give Emma was distraction as well as prompting her to use her training productively. He hated the helpless gleam in her eye and sent up a quick prayer that God would redeem their situation ASAP. Something would give, soon.